Seventeen
by Miss Snooze
Summary: A slightly nerotic collegestudent gets a blast from the past... Oneshot


**Disclaimer:** You know the drill…

**Seventeen**

_Seventeen_ was how old she had been when she realized that life wasn't going to be a picnic anymore. She had looked at him, and for the first time in the year they had known each other, she had really seen him. She had seen him, and she had fallen in love. Only problem was that he was dating her best friend. Her best friend, whom she had known since preschool.

It had been a day like any other; she had arrived with the bus from Hartford around 3 o'clock. Before going home, she had swung around Luke's to pick up a cup of coffee to drink on her way home. Luke and her had their normal 'coffee/no coffee'-discussion, and as always he had given in and she had gotten her coffee. She had left the diner and that's when it had happened.

_Seventeen_ was the number of steps she had taken when he walked up beside her.

* * *

_Seventeen_ was the number of air holes on the top of one of his sneakers. He fell into step next to her, and she knew immediately whom it was. She knew him so well by now, he had been coming in her house for a year now, or actually in her garage, to practice with the band. And he was Lane's boyfriend.

"Hi there." He said in his normal slightly jittery voice.

"Hi Dave," she looked at her watch "aren't you late?"

She didn't look at him, but she could sense him nodding next to her.

"I got my acceptance letter today." His voice was unsteady.

"I didn't know you applied to college," she was surprised, knowing that nobody else in the band had considered college as an option.

"I didn't want anybody to know," he mumbled, "in case I didn't get in…"

"Or in case you did?" she looked at him, and that was when it happened.

Like in some sappy teen-movie from the '80s, it felt like suddenly the world ran in slow motion and lost it's sound. For what felt like ten minutes she watched as he ran a hand through his hair, and rubbed a hand over his forehead, something he usually only did when he was dealing with Zach. Forcing herself out of the silent, slow motioned world, she cleared her voice, trying not to sound as if her mouth was completely dry, which it was of cause.

"Are you going to tell her?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

"I don't know." He said it slowly.

They were in her driveway before she realized she hadn't asked the most obvious question.

"Which college?"

"Berklee." She could hear the pride in his voice.

"That's in Boston, isn't it?" she asked. But before he could answer, Lane and Zach came out of the garage, obviously in the middle of a major discussion. Her guess was that it was about the bands name again; it seemed to be a recurring weekly happening.

"Thank God you're finally here," Lane exclaimed as soon as she saw him "would you please inform your friend that we're not renaming the band 'The Zach Jones Experience'?"

Dave looked at her and smiled apologetic.

"Guess we'll talk later?" he said before they dragged him into the garage.

_Seventeen_ was the number of freckles he had on his right cheek.

* * *

_Seventeen_ was how many minutes it took her to realize that she was staring into space, instead of working on her biology paper. She got up from the chair and left the paper lying on her desk, the pages scattered over the tabletop. She needed coffee that had to be it.

She walked into the kitchen, turned on Freddy the coffeemaker, and stared out of the window. She could see the garage from the kitchen window, and for some uncertain reason the wall of the garage was the most interesting thing she had seen for weeks. She sighed heavily, and turned away from the window. They were going to came in when they were done practicing, she knew that. They did that a lot, just to drink a coke or chat. She looked at her clock, they'd be done in an hour. She poured a cup of coffee, found a Pop tart hidden away in the wrong cupboard, probably from Lorelai's Not-so-secret stash, and with that she went back to her paper.

_Seventeen_ was how many words she wrote during the next hour.

* * *

_Seventeen_ was how many hours it took for her to work up the courage to tell Lorelai. She hadn't had much sleep that night, instead she had been tossing and turning, not really knowing what was wrong with her. She was more than normally cranky that morning, and because she missed her bus Lorelai had to drive her to school. They were sitting in the jeep outside Chilton, when she blurted it out.

"I think I'm in love with Dave!"

Lorelai spun around to look at her. She had expected her daughter to get out of the car as soon as it stopped, and hurrying away up to the school. Instead she got this proclamation. The world had to be falling apart, Armageddon was just around the corner, and Greek gods were celebrating the last days of earth by dancing a nice little tap on her brain. She looked at Rory as if she had just fallen out of the sky.

"Sorry?"

Trying to be patient with her mom, Rory repeated it again, a little slower this time.

"I said, I think I'm in love with Dave."

Lorelai looked up at the school.

"Okay," she said slowly.

"That's all you're gonna say?" Rory asked with a desperate edge in her voice. "No miracle-solution to all my problems this time?"

All Lorelai could do was shake her head. Sighing loudly, her daughter left the car and walked up to the school, dragging her feet. Lorelai looked at her from the car, unable to imagine what kind of immense pain her daughter was suffering.

_Seventeen_ was the number of years that had gone by since the last time Lorelai Gilmore had been rendered speechless

* * *

_Seventeen _was how many blue M&M's she found in the bag that her and Lane shared later that week. They were sitting on the floor in Lane's closet, listening to her new Ash cd, and talking. Or that'll be, Lane was talking. Rory was fishing for blue M&M's, trying to figure out how to tell her best friend that she had a crush on her boyfriend and once in a while she grunted to give Lane the impression that she was listening to her. She hated to admit it, but unlike her usual self, she weren't really paying attention, that was, until she suddenly said his name.

"… and then Dave told me that he had applied to college, Berklee actually. Would you believe it? Without even telling me."

Suddenly intrigued with the conversation Rory spoke up.

"Is he going then?" she asked, trying not to show her excitement.

"It sounds like it. And it's in Boston, just like Harvard, so I guess you'll be seeing more of each other, I mean if you get in that is."

Lane sighed, propped a handful of M&M's in her mouth, and for a while the closet was quiet, except from the music. Then she looked at Rory, and bit her lip.

"Now, the thing just is that I don't know if I should break up with him."

Rory almost choked on the chocolate she had just put in her mouth.

"Because I really don't think we can do the whole long distance thing, and his parents are talking about moving to New Orleans because his dad got offered a new job there, and since Dave is going to college they don't really have anything keeping them here." Lane rambled, "Does that make me a bad person?"

Rory didn't say anything.

"Oh my God, it does, doesn't it!"

Rory didn't know what to say, so instead she got up from the floor, opened the closet door, and walked towards the door. Lane stopped her halfway there. She got a grip on Rory's arm, and spun her around to face her.

"What's the matter with you?" Lane half shouted.

Rory just kept her eyes on the floor. When Lane didn't say anymore, she felt she had to. She sighed loudly, and looked up at Lane, who had a bewildered look on her face.

"I'm really not the right person to talk to about this Lane, you see, I think I've fallen in love with Dave."

_Seventeen_ had been the number of things in the mail when she'd gotten her acceptance letter.

* * *

_Seventeen_ was how many days that went by before Lane talked to her again. It was a week before graduation, and it was a Friday. Lane was sitting at the kitchen table talking to Lorelai, when Rory came in the door. She almost toppled over from the shock. The tension in the room was so thick that a knife could cut through it; Lorelai excused herself quickly, and left for Luke's. In the meantime the two teenagers were just staring at each other. Rory was finally the one to break the silence.

"I think I need coffee, you want some?" she walked over to the coffeemaker and poured a cup.

Lane indicated her own cup when Rory turned around, and she filled that too. She sat down across from Lane, and took a long sip from her cup, waiting for Lane to start the conversation.

"I've really missed you," Lane started, her voice trembling a little "but I just didn't know how to handle the whole thing. Anyway, I never really expected that something like this could happen, I mean we've always had a very different… taste."

Rory nodded.

"Believe me, I didn't expect this either!"

"No, I know. So I guess we just forget about it then?" Lane asked.

Rory was frozen for a second, but then she nodded.

"We've decided to try the long distance thing anyway." Lane said, "He wasn't sure about it either, but it's worth the try."

They were silent for a while, before Lane got up from her chair.

"I guess I better get home, before Mama gets worried."

Rory also got up, and they hugged. Only it didn't feel like it usually did, it was awkward and uncomfortable, and they both let go quickly. When Lane left, Rory had realized that their relationship would never be the same ever again.

_Seventeen_ was the number of red cars that had passed her bus that day.

* * *

_Seventeen_ was the number of dishes they ordered from a Thai restaurant the day they moved her stuff to Harvard. They had just returned from Europe, and was in a hurry to get everything moved in to her new dorm. Luke had left Caesar in charge for the day, to help them get everything moved in time. She had been lucky, as she had gotten a dorm with only one roommate. Her name was Samantha, but she immediately told them that the last person who had called her that had earned himself a black eye and to call her Sammie instead. She was pre-law, a bassist and singer, and a really nice girl. She had been at campus for two days, and was already moved in, but she was more than willing to help Rory.

After Luke left them around 5 o'clock the tree girls got themselves situated in front of the T.V in the girls common room, with takeout boxes littering every open space around them, and 'The Breakfast Club' on the DVD-player. They weren't really watching the movie though. Sammie was painting Lorelai's nails in the most peculiar ocean green color that Rory had ever seen, and she herself was currently telling Sammie the highlights of her life story, while they both drowned out Lorelai's random comments. She had a feeling that they were going to be great friends.

"…and that pretty much brings us up to date." She ended her story, right after having retold the Dave/Lane disaster story.

"Oh my," Sammie bit her lip "Now I'm really glad that me and Rick decided to split right before prom."

"Yeah," Rory sighed, "I guess I've decided to try to forget the whole thing, only I'm here, and he's here."

"Have you spoken to him?" Sammie asked, "Maybe that'd help. I mean if he's heads over heal for your friend, you wouldn't want him anyway, would you?"

Rory shook her head. She hadn't thought about it that way.

_Seventeen_ was how many different colors of nail polish Sammie had on her shelve in the bathroom.

* * *

_Seventeen_ was how many books she had stuffed in her bag this morning. She really only needed seven, but she had been confused and in a hurry, and hadn't been able to remember whether her literature professor had told them to bring 'Tender is the Night' or 'The Great Gatsby', she was sure he had some kind of sick fascination with Fitzgerald, since it seemed to be the only literature deemed worthy for him to concern himself with. Now she was carrying around a ton of books, and walking the streets of Boston, searching for the bar that Sammie and her new band mates were going to play tonight. She had promised Sammie to be there, and despite the problems she was having finding the place, she was going to back out of her promise.

Her and Sammie had been at Harvard for 3 months by now, and just as she predicted, they had become great friends. Sammie had even gone with her home to Stars Hollow for a weekend to celebrate her birthday, and she'd been in St. Louis to meet Sammie's folks.

Sighing loudly, she finally saw the sign Sammie had told her about. It was a pig wearing a waistcoat; bend in pink and blue neon, and with "First Little Piggy" written on it in green neon. Sammie was right; it was ultimately the ugliest sign she'd ever seen. The bar was in one of those high basements that actually have windows. She walked down the stairs, and into the bar that was surprisingly nice. It had big, dark red, plush chairs and sofas, and the floors and rest of the furniture was dark wood. The walls were all painted bottle green, except from the corner where the small stage was, there the walls were yellowish white, and covered in marker scribbling. Sammie was standing in front of the stage, ordering around two guys, who were carrying around a drum set. She turned when she heard the slam of the door.

"Rory, thank God you're here." She danced over to Rory and gave her a hug. "Guys, this is my room mate Rory."

Turned to Rory, she pointed to one of the guys.

"That's Charlie, and the other one is Gap," under her breath she added, "as in the place he buys all his clothes."

She looked up at the boys, who had just put down the drum set, and tilted her head.

"You know, that's not the middle of the stage."

"Sod off…" the one that Sammie had pointed out as Gap said, and turning to Rory he asked, "How can you stand living with her?"

"They won't listen to me," Sammie whispered in Rory's ear, and pulled her to the bar "But I know they love me."

She said the last loudly enough for the guys to hear her, and Charlie smiled at her, while Gap scoffed, and disappeared behind the scene. Sammie turned to the bartender, and ordered a pitcher of beer and five glasses. The bartender served her, no questions asked, and they carried the beer and glasses to the sofa closest to the stage. Sammie poured the drinks, and took a sip of her glass.

"This place is amazing you know," she pointed to the wall behind the stage "everyone who's ever played here has signed that wall."

The boys joined them, and Rory got to meet then all properly. Charlie, who was tall and had spiky, blonde hair and an obvious crush on Sammie, Gap, who was short and dark, and suffered from incurable crankiness and Clash, whose real name was also Charlie and was unable to listen to music without drumming the rhythm with his fingers on the closest plain surface. They were nice guys.

After an hour, the bar was filling up, and it was close to the time that the band was supposed to go on. Clash had told her that some of his friends were coming to see them play also, so she wouldn't be alone. He looked up to the door, and smiled, waving someone over to the table. He got up and greeted three people that had come up to their table. Turning back to the table, he introduced them to Rory, who was the only one how hadn't met anyone before.

"Guys, this is Sammie's friend Rory, Rory this is Fingers, Dave and my girlfriend Taz." He said hugging the girl to him.

Rory couldn't stop staring at him, almost in shock. She hadn't expected to see him there, although the bar was a hangout for the students at Berklee, as she had been told. He wasn't supposed to just show up like that.

"Rory, fancy seeing you here." He smiled at her and slid into the seat next to her "So, I guess you decided on Harvard, Lane never told me."

_Seventeen _was the number of badges on Taz' canvas shoulder bag.

_

* * *

_

_Seventeen_ was the name of the first song the band played that night, music and lyrics was credited to Dave Rygalski, and the song was about a girl. The girl that he had fallen for one day, when she was seventeen. But Rory didn't really hear the song, she was too busy talking to Dave. He told her about Berklee, about his parent's new place and about Lane.

"She never really told me why, but I did realize that you two had some kind of falling out. I guess that's why she never told me about you being here." He looked at her intensely "Or maybe it was because we broke up because of you."

She looked surprised.

"I told her that I'd told you about college, and for some reason she freaked out over that." He shot her a lopsided smile "I guess that's not the smartest thing I've ever blurted out."

After the band was done playing, they joined the table again, and for another couple of hours and about ten pitchers of beer they sat there talking and having fun. Sammie and Charlie were the first ones to leave, him first, and her about five minutes later. Everyone around the table exchanged looks.

"Who do they think they're fooling?" Clash chuckled.

Slowly the rest of them left, leaving Rory and Dave alone.

"I guess I'd better get home too," she said as Fingers and Gap had left them, deep engaged in a music discussion "after all I have a class tomorrow."

"I'll walk you home." He said, smiling again. He'd been doing that a lot tonight.

_Seventeen _was the number of kisses they shared outside her door that night.

_

* * *

_

_Seventeen_ was the number of people in the row in front of them in the movies the next day. After the movie when they went for coffee, he told her about the day that he realized that he was in love with her. It was also the day he decided to apply to college.

_Seventeen _was the number of doors they passed on the way to his room that night. He unlockerd his door, and before she knew it, Rory was pushed up on it's inside.

_

* * *

_

_Seventeen _months was how old she was when Lorelai taught her to count, and since then, that's what she does. She counts. Everything can fall subject to this fancy of hers, the tiles in the bathroom, the light posts on Main street, the books she's read, and everything else. She counts. A lot. She calls it her funny little neurosis, others might call it OCD, but then again that's why she's never told anybody.

She's done it all her life, and some of the numbers stick in her brain better than others. Seventeen is one of them. And it is her favorite number, her lucky number. She never knows what to tell people when they ask why. There is only one thing that she really knows.

_Seventeen _was the number of freckles on his right cheek the day she fell in love with him.


End file.
